


Dirty Crime Boy

by AnotherGreyUser



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gore, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25965763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherGreyUser/pseuds/AnotherGreyUser
Summary: Real life minecraft AUWilbur is known for being a Dirty Crime Boy but what if his crimes were a lot more gruesome? His infamous experiments and ability to turn violent at a moments notice allowed him to become feared across the lands. Will he ever stop?
Relationships: Technoblade/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 37
Kudos: 390





	1. Chapter 1

Wilbur was like the many other players that populated the large variety of servers. For like them he was in awe of the pros. Watching them live or videos recorded of their actions. Tournaments, challenges, even just casual gameplay. He was mesmerized by these events but one thing called to him above all else.

Carnage.

It was everywhere. Hunger games. Party games where the victor was the one who survived. People being ravaged by zombies or falling into lava. Death was a constant.

Watching as they respawned moments later.

Who cared if someone died in a match if it was in the name of a grand prize, they'll come back. Everyone learnt this from a young age. There are few things that are permenant and death isn't one of them.

So crowds went wild for action, blood, death and drama. Some games and shows were dedicated to dying. Often, contestants and competitors were informed of possible death risks before hand or were told how they'd die. It was better to fake a reaction than risk traumatizing someone accidently. It was easy to find those willing as many were happy to suffer a temporary pain if it meant being able to get their five minutes of fame.

Fame.

Wilbur wanted that.

The red carpets and flashing lights of paparazzi.

If it took a little death to get there, he'd happily supply it. He'd make his own games, like the championships, to feed the masses the gore they desire.

So he did.

~~~

The name Wilbur Soot carried a great weight with it. The weight of equal amounts of love and fear.

To his fans he was another source of entertainment. They enjoyed the experiments and games he created, watching for the humour, violence and entrancing ideas. 

To those who had experienced the experiments first hand and those who knew the terror Wilbur instilled when he got angry. He was a monster. Capable of burning his own fans alive and laughing at their death. Able to bathe in bloodshed and the cries for mercy without remorse.

To his friends-

Well he didn't have any friends. However that wasn't important, he was doing fine without any!

He'd created his own style, his own world, from the ground up. From humble begins, using strangers interested in what he did as his Guinea pigs to having fans volunteer themselves by the hundred.

It was just a shame that they never return. There were very few if any that appeared in two of his games.

He could never understand why.

Many of the people who watched his videos found it funny how he was capable of changing pace so quickly. He saw a lot of people commenting on how "soft" he looked. That often changed when he got angry, as one fan would soon find out.

~~~

Wilbur set up a new video. The next episode in his series where he made his viewers into various pests. This time he'd chosen slugs.

A hundred players piled into his world, immediately feeling an immense weight on their backs, slowing their speed by a large margin. Wherever they walked, they left a glistening trail behind them, clearly visible to all others.

Wilbur began his introduction, informing those watching of the effects and his plans for the 'slugs'. As he spoke he began to create a small patch of farm land and plant a variety of vegetables.

"So I'm trying to plant my carrots and do you know what these slugs do?"

One 'slug' walked towards the carrot patch, radiating false confidence even at the slow pace. He made direct eye contact with the other and tore a single orange vegetable out before biting it. He smirked, pleased with himself and the knowledge that he'd be able to brag about this to his friends. He'd be in a video.

He was oblivious to the tension.

The silence was stifling and all the other 'slugs' took a step back. The chat laughed at the man, knowing he was fucked.

The pest realised something had changed. He couldn't put his finger on it at first, Wilbur looked the exact same. Then it dawned upon him.

His eyes.

Something was there. A darkness swirling in the orbs that wasn't there prior. Wilbur's fist tightened around a handful of something.

The man backed away.

"H-hey man, it's just a jo-"

He was suddenly cut off by his own screams. Something had been thrown at him, he barely caught a glimpse of white before it hit. The pain was unbearable, it burned hotter than fire and drowned out everything else. He clawed at his face, his eyes, hoping to scrape off some of what had caused this. His hands came away wet and sticky. He looked down and gagged. Flesh. Chunks of melted meat had slid from his face and lay in his hands. He kept screaming as the pain continued to ravage his body until the screams turned to gargles, throat filling with blood. Minutes passed as, internally, he kept begging for it end before he drowned to his own blood.

He respawned a minute later in a lobby but still felt the phantom pain all over, prickling under his skin, begging to be torn out.

~~~

Wilbur turned away from the man's body when it turned limp and happily exclaimed "Oh yeah, that reminds me! We're on hardcore so no one respawns here and, like slugs, salt burns them!"

The chat was going crazy, but not because of what they'd seen, but arguing over wether it was scripted or not.

SCRIPTED!

No, they just agree to die before hand, that doesn't mean it's scripted, idiot.

I bet it was fake. Probably acting.

Obviously it was acting! Who'd sign up for that?

No it isn't!

Sure.

I might go on the next game, I would be willing to maybe get stabbed, I've gotten worse from zombies for nothing.

Yeah, I've been volunteering for a while but haven't been picked yet.

However Wilbur wasn't paying attention to chat. He was staring down at his shoe. He lifted his foot and saw the stringy half melted flesh stick to the bottom, stretching in strand, like chewing gum. His nose wrinkled in disgust

He shrugged and scraped his shoe on the floor.

There was no point in changing them or cleaning them properly.

Things were bound to get messier.


	2. Chapter 2

Wilbur's games differed greatly from those organised by fellow players or server hosts. There was one key difference that seperated them. Wilbur's fans didn't agree to his torture.

Before tournament, contestants learned the risks. Entering survival worlds, they knew of the creepers. When they went to a hunger games, they were told to expect death from a number of methods. Yet those who played with Wilbur didn't get a warning.

His fan base, like many others, assumed they knew the risks or acted. Maybe the entire events were scripted to his standard, that way he could kill without guilt and his fans wouldn't be permanently harmed. That was wrong.

Those who suffered through his actions lay awake at night scarred by memories of grins stretched from ear to ear. Fire licking at skin and swords too blunt to cut flesh but force strong enough to tear it through anyway.

The victims never said anything. Who'd believe them? They watched what he did and signed ip anyway. If they told someone they didn't expect it, they'd be blamed for ignorance. If they said they didn't agree to it, they'd have no proof.

The bystander affect was in full swing. Maybe if they all came forward, people would believe them. Hundreds of accounts against one man who recorded their suffering and shared it. Yet no one stood up because what if no one else did? Their word against his, a nobody against an idol. Who'd the public believe?

After countless experiments, someone finally stood up for themself.

One voice inspired over a hundred others to stand beside them. Not everyone came forward but it was enough and soon the youtuber community had no choice but to listen, even if most of Wilbur's fans didn't believe them. They still had to look into this. If what they said was true, then Wilbur had to be stopped, because if what they said was true, he was truly a monster.

Hidden behind a mask of smiles, laughter and music was an evil man. Someone who had constructed walls so strong that he could sway an audience to his side while continuing his violence before thousands. 

The only thing worse than a criminal is one that can't be caught but there was a group of people willing to try their best to do expose any actions that hurt their community.

And they were gathered to do so.

~~~

The largest influences sat around a long table. Their faces were solemn and their demeanours were serious. They all knew why they were gathered and it was a dreary day when such a large threat bared it's head. The room was alive with hushed whispers and muffled murmurs.

At the head of the table sat Captain Sparklez. He called for everyone's attention. The room eased to silence, the quiet hum of an air conditioner the only sound to remain.

"Gentlemen, I believe we all know why we have gathered here today."

A variety of agreements swept over the table as they acknowledged the elephant in the room.

A picture of a familiar brunette appeared on the board behind Sparklez. A couple of people could hardly believe this is the man being accused of torturing hundreds. The smile on his face radiated innocence. Which side of him was the act?

"There has been 107 reports from people featured on his channel claiming that they did not consent to what happened to them. There is no proof that they agreed to it, yet there is no proof that they didn't. We need to look into this further. Is anyone willing ro volunteer to visit Mr Soot and confront him about these allegations?"

Unsurprisingly, he was met with a resounding silence. Although he expected as much, it still annoyed him. They had to do something, if none of them took action, who would?

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before asking, with clear frustration in his voice,

"Well we need someone to go, so how are we going to decide?"

"It's obvious no one wants to go, so why don't we just draw straws?"

Sparklez considered this for a second before agreeing. He grabbed a handful of pencils from a pot on the table. He snapped the tip of one and shuffled them behind his back before holding them out before him. His hands hid the ends of the pencils and it was impossible to tell which was snapped.

One by one, each person grabbed a pencil, shoulders sagging with relief at the sight of a sharp tip. Meanwhile those still waiting for their turn to pick became increasingly tense. At the end there were four pencils left, the broken one still hidden in the bunch.

Skeppy, Tommy, Sparklez and Bad all crossed there fingers as Skeppy drew a pencil. Those looking on, already safe, held their breath.

It had a point.

Tommy stepped forwards and pulled the closest pencil in one swift motion. His eyes widened at the sight before him. He heard Tubbo gasp behind him.

It had no point.

Captain Sparklez and Bad breathed easy knowing they were in the clear but Tommy tried hard to maintain a care free facade.

Some wished him luck, some laughed at his misfortune and others voiced their pity and concern. Yet they all knew everyone was glad they weren't picked above all else. Tubbo was the only one genuinly upset Tommy was chosen and he offered to go with him, for backup.

Tommy accepted their words with a false confidence yet turned down his friend. 

"I don't need help, Tubbo! If he tries anything, I'll kill him! He won't stand a chance against me!" He said, voice laced with an under lying nervousness that he refused to voice. He didn't want to appear weak in front of his friends and idols.

Despite his large claims and bravado, he had only one thought. One word bouncing inside his skull.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who needs government and police when influencers run the world? I just realised CaptainSparklez is this worlds closest thing to a president and that is an image.
> 
> I'm down for Wilbur and Techno. Never knew it was a ship but ill try my best! I want this to be Wilbur centric so idk how thatll go but ehhhh. I might end up switching povs a lot but if i do ill even it out.
> 
> Anyone has an idea for a fic they wanna see just tell me. This shits fun and addictive but i have no creative bones in my body.


	3. Chapter 3

Movies always portrayed the villain's layer as a dark tower, an old mansion at the end of a twisted path. It felt underwhelming as Tommy stood before a simple house. It was a small home with a fenced off green garden. He double checked the address and server given to him by Sparklez. It was hard to believe this pleasant home belonged to a monster.

He walked up the path towards the door and paused. His finger hovered over the buzzer. He had no clue what lay beyond these walls or what could happen. His mouth dried up and he swallowed audibly. Shaking his head he went over what he was told.

~~~

"Try not to anger him. Be polite-"

"That'll be hard for him."

"Shut up Fundy."

"I said! Be polite and don't accuse him of anything. Even if you think he's guilty don't push him, because if you're right, that could set him off."

"So you're telling me, I should walk in the-"

"NO! Don't go in his house. Have you already forgotten why we're doing this?!"

"Of course not, I'm just saying, I walk up to his house, and say, what, 'Oh hey Wilbur, some people say you tortured them, I don't know if you did, but if it's true can you please stop?' Yeah, that'll go well."

"Not in those words but basically, yes."

"Really!?"

"Just go Tommy."

~~~

It was simple enough. Don't be rude, don't go in the house, don't accuse him of anything. He's got this. Totally.

He rang the doorbell.

He waited for a minute and no one came. He couldn't hear anyone moving inside the house so he rang the doorbell again.

No answer.

Impatiently he pushed the button again, brow furrowed in frustration.

Tommy was getting annoyed by now. Ringing the bell was a nerve wracking experience. He was literally calling for a murderer to come see him. To ring it three times took all his will power and this man was ignoring him?

"Who the fuck does he think he is? If he were here right now, I'd give him a piece of my mind."

"Go ahead then."

Tommy started violently and spun around to look up at the other. 

Wilbur Soot flashed him a blinding smile running one hand through his hair. Tommy felt his blood boil, so many people were hurt by this man yet he could stand there and smile happily as if he was innocent?! He pushed down his anger which had washed away his fear. 

"Hi, I'm Wilbur Soot." He extended his hand towards Tommy.

Tommy looked down at the hand and debated ignoring it. He remembered the blood spilled by those hands and felt put off. He shook it anyway. Remembering the damage he'd done was sickening but sobering. He didn't want to risk upsetting the older. 

"TommyInnit, but you can call me Tommy."

"Well, Tommy, why are you ringing my doorbell? Do you need something?"

"Actually, CaptainSparklez sent me," As guilty as Tommy felt for throwing Sparklez under the bus, he was the one who made Tommy come here in the first place. "He wanted me to talk to you about some claims from your fans."

"Oh, I thought that was it. Well, do you want to come in for a chat? I was out collecting wood all day, so I'd prefer to sit down for a minute."

Tommy realised he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Should he go in and be trapped in a confined space with a killer, or should he refuse and risk coming across as rude and making him angry? He blurted out his answer.

"Sure! I'd love to."

Wilbur seemed to light up at the response and manoeuvred around Tommy to open his door.

"Great! Come in, it's been a long time since I last had any guests."

~~~

The inside of Wilbur's house was as unsuspecting as the outside. Tommy sat, tense, in the living room scared to touch or say anything.

It seemed normal but almost too normal. Everything was neat and tidy, to the point it looked like no one lived here. There were very few personal belongings and the only real decorations were a plaque that read 'Home Home' and a clock with no numbers.

Wilbur sat on the other couch much more relaxed than the blonde. Neither spoke and the silence made Tommy squirm. Eventually he felt he had no other choice than to say something.

"So, Wilbur. You're quite popular."

"Oh, I'm not that popular. There are others with a lot more fans than me."

"Well, yeah, but still, a lot of people are quite eager to appear in your videos."

"I'm not stupid Tommy, I see what you're trying to do. I know what they've been saying about me."

"I guess that makes it easier for me then. So, is it true?"

"Of course not. I mean, they don't even have any proof that I did anything wrong. They signed up to appear, they knew what was coming and they went on anyway. Unless you have any sort of evidence, I don't see why you need to ask me."

Tommy swallowed thickly. He was right, they had no proof and they couldn't do anything unless someone came forward with new evidence, he made a new video and someone went undercover or Wilbur confessed.

Looking at the man, the intense stare being levelled his way and the unspoken challenge between them, daring Tommy to object, Tommy doubted he'd admit to anything.

"You know what, you're right. I'll be going now, it was a pleasure meeting you Wilbur."

"You too Tommy, I'll walk you to the door."

"That's not necessary-"

"I insist."

Tommy closed his mouth and just nodded, not wanting to cause any problems. Wilbur guided him to the exit and when he was out of the house, Tommy let out a sigh of relief. He walked out the gate and felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He turned around and saw Wilbur staring at him in the doorway.

He started walking faster and the feeling went away as he turned a corner. His heart rate started to slow back down and he made his way to the others. He had to tell them what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what youre thinking.
> 
> Grey, this sucks, when is Techno gonna come in? Well, let me tell you this. I have a basic plan for this fic and i guarantee that he'll appear either next chapter or the one after. Pinky promise. Like, i may be lazy at times and take week long breaks but im trying my best. Like, my life went crazy for a few days plus school is starting soonish so i needed to sort that shit out but im back baby.
> 
> But dont fret, ill figure this out.
> 
> Hope you enjoy my mind vomit.


	4. Chapter 4

Wilbur's eyes followed the other as he quickly walked away. He narrowed his gaze when the younger turned a corner. The blonde boy was an open book and from the very beginning had practically forcasted his emotions. The air felt stale with anger and fear, and was soured by anxiety.

Wilbur wasn't ignorant by any means. He knew the participants for his games had some... interesting complaints regarding his treatment of them. Yet when he heard that someone was sent down to his home because of it, rage swept him away. Luckily he had practice in self restraint and hadn't wrung the childs neck on the doorstep. Hadn't found the axe he'd cut wood with and planted it firmly in the back of his skull. Watched as red met gold strands and blue eyes dulled grey.

Yet he couldn't say he wasn't tempted.

He had to be smart. They had no proof yet, but murdering a trusted and famous child would be enough to take action. It would provide just reason to hunt Wil down. Although Wil didn't understand why what he did was so wrong, he knew others didn't see it as he did. They saw it as criminal. Sure, he didn't outline the risks or explicitly state the violence and pain was real but it was their fault for assuming it wasn't.

Now those leeches were using their own stupidity as an excuse to ruin Wilbur's name and boost their own. He could ignore hate campaigns. He could ignore the horror stories being shared but how dare they do this to him?!

His home held little value but it was still his home. They had violated his privacy and asked him so bluntly. Tommyinnit exuded accusation. It was clear Tommy blamed Wilbur.

If he saw that little runt near his home again, if he dared to gaze at HomeHome with that look of distaste once more, Wilbur would tear him limb from limb.

The sensation of pain shot through his finger tips and broke his train of thought and descent into anger.

Blood coated his cracked nails and wall from where he had gripped it so tightly. The way he'd been scraping them up and down had damaged them.

Deep breathes grounded him and he quietly shut the door, retreating to his living room. Although Clock had no numbers, he was able to recognise the time through experience. He worked out that he had been stood their, with the door open, for around half an hour, which explained the draft.

Sitting down, he turned on his TV, although he didn't watch it. Instead he focused on making a plan. He knew that Captain Sparklez sent Tommy which meant all the top players were involved. Sparklez knew many good strategists and negotiators, he wouldn't have only asked Tommy. Tommy was either chosen at random or the last choice and either way, that meant everyone had to have known about this.

He couldn't fight back against the best of the best alone so he could only try and gain more power and convince them he's innocent or, at the very least, low threat.

Judging by Tommy's reaction, that wouldn't be easy. Even the child suspected him.

He needed to think of something fast.

Luckily, there was plenty of coffee and Wilbur had spent many nights awake. Lack of sleep was nothing new. So he got to work.

~~~

"Alright, so. Promise you won't be mad."

"What did you do, Tommy?"

"I know you said to be polite, but-"

"YOU HAD THREE RULES TOMMY!"

"I know, I know, but it's not my fault! He wouldn't answer the door so I said I'd beat him up. It was just a joke, how could I know he was behind me?"

"Let me get this straight. You threatened to beat up, possibly, one of the most dangerous people we've ever encountered, infront of his own home?"

"...Maybe?"

Sparklez groaned, gripping his head, sending the oncoming headache. "At least you didn't go in."

"Yeah, about that."

As the sound of Sparklez's berating filled the meeting room, the others were filled with regret. They knew it would end badly if Tommy went but no one was willing to replace him. How would this failure affect their future plans?

"Tommy, we'll talk about this later. For now, tell us about what he said about the accusations."

"He was quite annoyed, I think. He said they were lying and looked very angry. I think he said something about how there was no reason to ask since they had no evidence. I thought it was best to leave after that and came straight here."

"You did the right thing, leaving, son." 

Philza's reassurance was comforting. Despite not being related to any of them, Phil still felt like the groups dad and his support was appreciated.

"So what do we do now?" Questioned Eret.

"The plan is to watch and wait. If he makes another video, we have to step in but until then, there's nothing we can do. He has an advantage and is snart enough to use it."

"What advantage, there's more of us than him." Tommy's arrogance was dangerous and Sparklez decided to squash it quickly.

Tommy needed to understand that this wasn't a game and they were in real danger.

"He has justice, support and knowledge on his side. If we hunt him down with no proof of any wrong doings, we'll be considered the bad guys. He has many fans and even if we collectively have more, we can't stop the ones he has. They can upload, lie and spread information, especially about us."

"What do you mean?"

"It's simple. Some people here have been in the public eye for years. All ot takes is asking around and searching up old videos to learn about most of our lives. Strength and weaknesses."

"Friends and family." Scott spoke up.

That caused a spike of fear in everyone sat at the table. Wilbur had never hurt anyone outside a video, to their knowledge, but who knows what he'd do when pressed. What if he was just as violent outside his channel but no one came forward? What if they couldn't, it was hard for the dead to speak.

There were second thoughts, people internally debating if they should back down as all noise died.

CaptainSparklez looked at the sea of innocent people with a grim expression. He didn't want to drag them into thus, but soneone needed to do something.

He had to convince them to fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLOOOOO! Okay okay okay, so.
> 
> I have tests and revision and im dying, days feel so long. My priorities are whack since i wanna this write more but I still gotta focus on them
> 
> So yeah, updates are messed up for however long but im trying man. This isnt even my main fic, so it isnt even my first priority fic wise. Sorry. HOWEVER! Im gonna take some time to focus on this cause I feel guilty.
> 
> Have a good day/evening/night!


	5. Chapter 5

Sparklez spent hours attempting to convince those before him to stand up to Wilbur, and while some seemed determined to bring justice, others did not. They radiated nervousness with nails bitten down to the beds and bouncing legs. No matter how much he spoke, he could not sway them.

They knew they were at risk but family hadn't been considered before now. They didn't think anyone would take it that far, but in retrospect why wouldn't they? Some may call it selfish but that was the least of their concerns.

The Captain paused, acknowledging that any more time spent talking was time wasted. He should appreciate that anyone chose to potentially sacrifice the safety of loved ones. It was more than he had any right to ask for. Yet it still wasn't enough.

He had to turn to plan B.

His knuckles bled white as he clenched his fists. He didn't want to do this, it was risky and costly, but he saw no other options.

"Captain?"

He looked up and met Tubbo's worried gaze. His brow was furrowed as he closely examined Sparklez's face, in search of something, yet he didn't know what.

Tubbo was one of those willing to fight and it made Sparklez's heart ache. Tubbo was a child, he didn't deserve to be forced into this situation. CaptainSparklez made his mind in that moment. He'd do whatever it took to go back to days spent searching for the younger following close behind, pretending it annoyed him.

"We're going with plan B. We have no other options and I am not stepping down. This is our last hope."

"What's plan B?"

"There is a man who's name is feared across all servers. He is willing to do almost anything, as long as he deems it worth his time. If we give him something he wants, he might be willing to watch Wilbur and, if he steps out of line, take him down."

"Seriously? Why isn't he here now?"

Sparklez turned to face Tommy.

"If he chose to take control, or decided Wilbur's side was more appealing, it would end in immeasurable destruction. He has friends and allys that would help him, so even if we beat them, we'd still lose too much to say we won."

"Who is he?"

"They call him... Technoblade."

~~~

Techno sat in a large field, washing the crimson from his sword in a small pool of water, turning it a murky red. He could feel the gazes of the villagers, watching him in fear and anger, yet too aware of the difference in skill to dare attempt anything. The few that had dared to offer him a bad deal were introduced to the sharp end of his blade. If he did that to them over such a small inconvenience, what would he do to someone who fought back?

Technoblade didn't care about their displeasure as he had experienced this many times before. It wasn't the first time he pilfered a village. It was always the same. Slay the golem, steal the loot, raid the potato farm and leave. This was often criticized by the more peaceful adventurers who co-existed with the people, yet he didn't listen. So what if the zombies attacked them, it wasn't his problem. By then he would be long gone and it was up to them to become independent.

Don't misunderstand, Techno doesn't hate the village people, he merely holds no compassion for those who rely so heavily on the protection of others. In his opinion, it was kinda cringe.

Happy his blade was sufficiently cleaned, giving up on the older blood that was caked on and dried brown, he sheathed it, knowing he didn't have the tools to clean it now, and was preparing to continue his search for a better horse when he felt a sudden buzz. The watch upon his wrist was alerting him of a message from... CaptainSparklez? 

The pinkette instantly recognized the name, having enjoyed the work of the older man in his youth, yet was confused as to why he was calling him. Sparklez was rather peaceful and Techno found it hard to believe he would want to associate with a known PVP specialist.

The captain had made the mistake of doing so previously. Techno could still remember the gaze filled with a rage subdued by acceptance each time they crossed paths in Minecraft Mondays, a well known tournament that had made his presence known outside his fanbase.

Regardless, he opened the message.

Technoblade, we need your help. There is a man posing a threat to the server and we are incapable of solving the issue. We need your skills. Please meet us in the board room of the tower as soon as you can. Thank you, CaptainSparklez.

It was rather vague and short, supplying very little information, but Techno supposed that was the point. To entice him to meet them, if only to learn more about this new threat. 

He doubted it was any small matter, considering their combined power and how easy it would be to squash such a threat. So who or what could intimidate them so much? A threat so powerful a team of the best felt uneasy, how could he resist such an oppertunity.

Against his better instincts, he sent back a short reply before abandoning his quest, mounting one of his many unnamed, failed horses. It wasn't as fast as he would like, but it would get him to his destination before he would if he walked.

He required no directions or map, simply finding the sun, on it's way to setting, and calculating from there. They didn't call him the human GPS for nothing.

~~~

The group of people remained in their seats as they impatiently awaited the arrival if their supposed savior. The air was thick with tension and fear, which only mounted as time passed. This 'hero' should have arrived a while ago, yet they still remained.

The seat which was often fought over, the only comfortable spot out of the many others, was empty, no one daring to take the position. It had a beautiful view of the horizon, but due to this its back faced the door. Such a vulnerable spot, one would be crazy to take it.

Tommy opened his mouth, most likely to make a joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, but was quickly shut down by the door being opened. Many had expected some over the top entrance, or at least for the door to be slammed open, however this wasn't the case. 

Instead, an imposing figure, tall and regal in gown, slipped in quietly and politely shut the door. One could mistake him for any other average person, or at least they would before he looked up to face them. 

He was coated in red and silver, his clothes still soaked while that on his skin dried and flaked in places. Yet, some spots shined, proving it was still wet. Still fresh.

It wasn't hard to guess what it was, tge crimson being what was inside everyone at that table, the silver fluid an element they had all worked with. Iron, specifically that from a golem. Judging off this, it wasn't hard to guess what had happened.

Underneath the layers of blood, his expression was the picture of boredom, as if he hadn't slaughtered a creature who only worked to protect the weak and doomed families to death by mauling what couldn't have been more than an hour or two prior.

Sure, the villagers weren't particularly independent or smart, and they lacked the ability to be an individual as players did, but they were still alive! Murdering villagers was often a topic of debate, but it was decided a long time ago that they lacked the capacity to feel or think on a high enough level to be considered a person. All they could do was trade and hide from threats, not caring if their family was slaughtered before them.

Due to this, those that cared for the simple beings couldn't punish the man, only make their displeasure known through looks of disgust.

Technoblade took the open chair facing away from the entrance and crossed his ankle over his knee, resting his chin on the hand.

Tommy was in awe, this guy was so fucking cool.

The others gathered were more anxious than amazed, alhough they couldn't deny it was impressive how effortlessly intimidating this Technoblade was.

The furst to speak up was, expectedly, CaptainSparklez.

"Lets begin this meeting then, shall we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sucks, I know. What can I say, it's half 2 in the morning. Thanks the wonderful Blúpe for reminding me this exists and I should update lol
> 
> Now they can remind me, I might actually do it more often! I hope...

**Author's Note:**

> I mentioned wanting to write about Wilbur in my other fic and someone said theyd be interested in a fic about the dirty crime boy. So im making him ultra dirty with extra crime. Idk about ships for this soooo. If theres one you wanna see in particular tell me. Ill write anything.
> 
> Im also down for no ship but i still latch on to relationships so id need to pick 1 best friend to bend to my will.
> 
> (Heh... Will)
> 
> Once again I have no plan. If no one comments a ship Ill pick one out of a hat. Literally.
> 
> Also pls help how to tag?!


End file.
